Twelve Days on Voyager
by LinZE
Summary: A fic in Twelve part (a little like a certain festive song winkwink) lots of holiday goodness and a little humor along the way.


Twelve Days on Voyager

by

Fragment and LinZE

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. I believe they are the property of the writers for whoever is responsible for Star Trek: Voyager. I thank them profusely for giving us such wonderful characters to play with, and apologise in advance for any disrespect, misinterpretation or stupid mistakes on my part.

This story has been a collaboration of sorts between LinZE and myself. I wrote most of it in the lead up to Christmas 2001, as a Christmas present for a friend who, at the time, was rather obsessed with Voyager. I don't think I meant it to be quite so long when I started it, but I became quite fond of it and well… just wouldn't stop writing! Unfortunately, I didn't manage to get it finished in time for Christmas (not that year anyway!) so I sent LinZE as much of it as I had ready and told her that if she wanted it all, she'd have to write the other chapters herself! And she did. So – her contribution is in the form of the chapters 'Five Late Nights' and 'Three Vulcan Sins'.

There is nothing untoward in this story – it was written with Christmas cheer in mind. I think LinZE may have sneaked in some subtle Janeway/Chakotay subtext – oh, and Janeway/Tuvok too – but I take no responsibility for implied romantic content! After all, I managed to keep all mention of Janeway/Seven out of it…

Enjoy. And all the best for the festive season.

Fragment

………………

Twelve Pots a-Roasting 

'Oh no, please, not this again! The captain will not be pleased… this happens every single year!'

Neelix stormed out of his kitchen, threw up his hands in defeat and collapsed on to one of the upholstered seats in the mess hall. All about him fire sirens were clanging and shrieking and he could already hear someone running along the corridor towards the kitchen. 

The doors flew open and Chakotay rushed in, closely followed by Tuvok. Neelix turned wearily to face them and held his hands up once again in surrender, as the two men were drawn up sharply by the smoke that rose in swirls over the serving surface between the kitchen and mess hall.

'Commander, I cannot apologise enough. If you will please just give me a chance to explain. It was all done with good intentions, it… it was really a mistake anyone could have made – well, when I say anyone, I'm not implying that you yourself would have done so – I simply misjudged… I mean, with so many mouths to feed, I really do have to cook a lot, and keeping an eye on it all at the same time, I just…'

The commander stopped the Talaxian in mid-apology by fixing him with an unyielding glower. Neelix, whose eyes had strayed penitently towards the ground, looked up anxiously. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tuvok by the panel in the corner of the room, typing in the code that would override the alarm system. Again.

'Neelix. As much as we value you as a chef…'

'And… and morale officer, Commander…sir…'

The glare did not falter and Neelix trailed off once again.

'As I was saying. You are a very valued member of this crew Neelix, but surely, for just one year, you could aid the preparations by not causing the fire alarms to go off all over this deck. I find it very hard to believe that you don't learn from your mistakes. Year. After. Year.'

The Commander emphasized his point by striding purposefully towards to the by now trembling Talaxian.

'I make myself clear, don't I?'

'P…perfectly, sir,' Neelix mumbled, wringing his hands.

'Good. Now, get back in the kitchen and carry on making our Christmas dinner. Please.'

Neelix scrambled to his feet and scuttled back into the kitchen in a manner that Chakotay found very amusing. The traditional chef's hat that the enthusiastic Talaxian donned for occasions he deemed worthy – Christmas being his favourite – was creased and stained, and perched perilously on his head. Tufts of hair stuck out from underneath, giving poor Neelix quite a wild look. As he bustled around his small but industrious kitchen, he tried unsuccessfully to straighten his attire, but unfortunately attained nothing more than a few extra crumples.

The commander turned to the security officer, patiently waiting a couple of steps behind him, and grinned. He had wanted to do that since he entered the smoky room, but refrained, deciding instead to give Neelix another of his friendly lectures. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow wryly, and the two turned and left the hall.

Eleven Lovers Fighting 

Chakotay sat by himself at a table in the corner of the mess hall furthest from the door. There was a mug of rapidly cooling tea by his elbow but it had been ignored for almost an hour now. Laid out in front of him were eleven padds, with eleven names and eleven reasons: reasons why each of the named crew members thought that they should have the right to accompany their captain to the illustrious Christmas party.

Other years, the selection had been a lot simpler. The hopefuls had submitted their names and statements to the Commander, who, after careful consideration, would decide which was this year worthy to accompany the captain. His judgement was based on the quality of service of the individual over the year, their behaviour while not on duty, the care each took to present a smart, efficient image for Starfleet, and, of course, their treatment of the Captain herself.

Chakotay sat up and pressed his hands against his temples. He looked around the mess hall. It was slowly but steadily filling. He hoped he would not be disturbed – this task was proving far more complicated than he had bargained for.

Previously, the job had been rather amusing, and no great chore at all. But that was when the only aspirants had been Tom Paris and three or four ensigns. He had played the part of a fair and sympathetic moderator, never choosing the same crew member two years in a row, always finding something in a report or file that would merit one of them above the rest, offering kindly words of commiseration and support to the unsuccessful.

Then it would also be his job to ensure that the favoured individual met - by chance – with the captain, a couple of days before the party. The captain, thinking such things as arranging a partner for the party an unnecessary trouble, would have predictably left her choice up until the last minute and would welcome the stuttering invitation graciously. 

Of course, she must have known about the planning that went behind the ritual every year, and would often glare sweetly at her commanding officer if she deemed his choice inappropriate, but, being the noble captain she was, she would never, ever complain.

But this year? There were eleven applicants. Eleven. Where had they all come from? There was Tom, and Harry too, this year. He wondered what that was about – or maybe the mischievous pilot had just put his friend up to it. There were also a couple of names that Chakotay recognised from the Maquis crew, and one or two 'regulars' in the little competition that he recognised from years past. But still, that left five that had appeared from out of the blue. There would be no time to find and examine all the files on each crewmember, and picking one out of eleven – he had never had to do that before. It would leave far too many with their hopes dashed.

Chakotay picked up one of the padds absentmindedly as he thought about the difficult choice he was soon going to have to make. His mind drifted to the alternatives he could try instead. He could draw up a rota for the evening of the party, giving each one a chance to be seen with the captain. Or maybe not – she would never stand for that, being passed around like a team trophy.

The commander forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand once more and brought his attention back to the padd he held in his hand. He scanned it despairingly: '…it is only logical that I…' '…there is no doubt that I, in my senior rank…'. The frank and somewhat arrogant language used caught Chakotay's eye. He checked to see who had handed in that particular statement and found a name he did not recognise.

'They're either very confident of their chances or else… ah, of course – Vulcan,' Chakotay thought, surprised at himself for not noticing it straight off. Of course, spending so much time working alongside Tuvok, he was probably getting used to the Vulcan ways of speech. Ponderingly, he looked back at the name. He couldn't place it, not even now that he had the species. '…I, in my senior rank…' It couldn't be…no, there was no way.

'Chakotay – what is one of my senior officers doing being so unsociable?' 

A cheery voice interrupted his reflection, and Chakotay looked up to see his captain about to sit on the bench opposite his own. As he turned to greet her, his elbow caught the mug of cold tea on the table. It tipped and the contents flew in a nice arc, landing directly on the array of padds.

'Oh, Chakotay – I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!' the captain exclaimed guiltily.

'No, no captain. No need to worry – I was done with them anyway.'

Chakotay swept the padds into a pile on the seat beside him. His choice had been made for him. There was only one suitable candidate now.

Returning the mug to its rightful position and leaning his elbows on the table, he looked straight at the Captain.

'So, Captain. I was wondering, seeing as it's that exciting time of year again, would you be so kind as to accompany me to the Christmas party?'

Ten Warp Core Failures

'Neelix?'

'Naomi – what a pleasant surprise! How are you today?'

'I'm fine thank you Neelix, but no-one seems to have time for me at the moment. They're all far too busy preparing for the party, and they say I'm getting in the way.'

'Oh – we can't have that. No – not at all! Why don't you come and help me ice this Christmas cake?'

'Oh – alright then, if you need the help.'

Naomi ran round into the kitchen and stood eagerly by Neelix, her chin barely over the edge of the worktop. 

'There's the icing in that bowl; I'll just find you something to spread it with…'

Neelix turned away to find a knife, not noticing Naomi's fingers dipping into the creamy white icing. She drew them out, covered in sugary icing, threatening to drip on to the floor.

'It's a special Talaxian recipe you know Naomi – a favourite of mine!'

Naomi looked at her fingers, then wiped them on the back of Neelix's apron.

She took the proffered knife, and began to ice the cake, splashing rather a lot of icing on herself, Neelix, and the kitchen.

'I must be mistaken Naomi. I'm sure I said "ice this cake" not "ice this Talaxian". But maybe I was wrong…'

Naomi looked up at the cook and stuck her tongue out.

'Don't grumble Neelix – then you'd just be like everyone else. Tell me a story instead.'

'Oh, alright then. A story. Ah – I have just the one!

'Once upon a Starship – Voyager, actually – a long time before you were born, Lieutenant Torres was having some trouble in engineering. She was reading some abnormalities in the warp core, and could find no explanation for them. She…'

'Why didn't she just ask Seven to look at it?'

'What?'

'Seven – she can solve anything!'

'Um… well, this was before Seven was on board Voyager. Can I carry on?'

'Oh – sorry.'

'Thank you. So, yes. Lieutenant Torres didn't know what was going on, and was very annoyed. The readings were very sudden and she was very busy…'

'Why?'

'Why what?'

'Why was she busy?'

'Well, it was Christmas. And as you know, everyone is very busy at Christmas.'

'Oh.'

'So Lieutenant Torres was not very happy when the readings suddenly changed again. This time, someone called her over to the warp core. "There's something…in…the warp core Lieutenant," the ensign said.

"What do you mean 'in' the warp core, Ensign? There can't be!"

'But there was. There was a figure inside the warp core and it looked like it was travelling down towards them. Lieutenant Torres told everyone to stand back, and then she followed it down with her phaser. It stopped when it got to deck level. And then…'

'I know what happens.'

'Well, you tell me what happens then Miss Wildman!'

'It comes out of the warp core. Doesn't it – the figure comes out of the warp core?'

'Well done – the figure comes out of the warp core. I bet you don't know which way it comes out though!'

'Huh?'

'Well, let me tell you. The figure comes out backwards.'

'Backwards?'

'Yes. Backwards.'

'Why?'

'You'll see in a minute, if you let me continue. The figure stepped out of the warp core backwards. Now, of course Lieutenant Torres wasn't frightened, but she had never seen anything like this before.'

'Was it human?'

'No.'

'Talaxian?'

'No.'

'Was it…um…'

'Why don't you let me tell you what it was?'

'Oh – I suppose that's a good idea.'

'Right. It was a reindeer.'

'What?'

'A reindeer. It's a creature that lives on Earth. It is a quadruped, and on its head it has a set of magnificent horns, that it can use for fighting. But don't worry, this reindeer wasn't interested in fighting – it was very friendly. Now these reindeer, apparently, can fly, without the use of wings, or any kind of power at all.'

'Really?'

'Really. And they play reindeer games, and can talk – they are well known for calling each other names.'

'That's not very nice.'

'No, it's not. But like I said, this one was very friendly, so it didn't call anyone any names.'

'You still haven't told me why it came out backwards.'

'Neither I have. Well, it did come out backwards, and the last thing that left the warp core was its nose. And the end of it's nose was very shiny and glowed with a very bright light.'

'What did Lieutenant Torres say?'

'Well, she was just about to ask the reindeer what it was doing on board a Federation Starship, when the warp core shut down.'

'Oh dear – that's bad!'

'I know. So for a few seconds Lieutenant Torres was very busy, and when she had the warp core working again, she turned back to speak to the reindeer, but it had gone.'

'Gone where?

'Nobody knew. Everyone was very confused, as you may imagine, but at least the warp core readings had gone back to normal. But then, a few minutes later, it all happened again.'

'All of it?'

'Yes, everything happened again, just like the first time. Another reindeer came out of the warp core…'

'Backwards.'

'Yes, backwards, and then the warp core shut down again, and then the reindeer disappeared.'

'Then what happened?'

'Well, it did it again.'

'Again?'

'Yes.'

'Was that the last time?'

'No.'

'It did it again?'

'Yes, seven more times.'

'Seven?'

'That's right.'

'Well, that would make…'

Naomi put down the knife and counted on very sticky fingers.

'That would make ten reindeer, right Neelix?'

'Well done. Ten reindeer. All with very bright noses. And nobody knew where they had gone. After a while, Lieutenant Torres decided that they should tell the 

Captain. So she called the Captain and told her about the reindeer.'

'And what did the Captain say?'

'She said, "Yes, thank you Lieutenant, I am aware of the reindeer. I am currently entertaining them in my ready room. I think you should come up and hear what they have to say for themselves."

'So Lieutenant Torres went up to the Captain's ready room, where the Captain sat with ten reindeer. 

"Come in Lieutenant," the captain said, and introduced Lieutenant Torres to the reindeer.

"This is my Chief Engineer," she said. "I believe you have already met."

"Yes, we have," said the first reindeer. "And I would like to take this chance to apologise for the damage we may have caused to your warp core."

"Well, that may be a bit of a problem actually," said the Lieutenant.

"Not at all," replied the Captain. "The reindeer have just been explaining to me that they can help us. You see, their noses are really the source of their power, and if we can find some way of harnessing them to the front of Voyager, then they can pull us until we repair the warp core."

"Oh, alright then," said Lieutenant Torres.

'And so the Lieutenant went happily back to engineering, and the Captain showed the reindeer how to get to the front of the ship, and then Voyager carried on her way back to Earth.'

'Is that the end?'

'Yes, it is. Now, if you don't mind, I have some very important cooking to get on with. Thank you for your help with icing that cake Naomi. Will I be seeing you at the Christmas Party?'

'Of course – I can't wait! I don't believe you about the reindeer though.'

'Oh well, that's a shame.'

And Neelix turned back to try and salvage what was left of the cake.

Nine Pilots' Pranks

Finally Tom Paris was released from his last shift before the Christmas party. He felt a thrill of excitement when he went over all the… preparations he had planned for the festivities. 

But his elation was cut short as he left the bridge. Commander Chakotay, leaving the bridge behind him, called the young pilot back.

'Tom – you have time for a little chat before the celebrations, don't you?'

'Well, actually, sir…'

'That's good Tom. Follow me.'

Tom had no choice but to follow the commander into his quarters. Chakotay sat himself down in a large armchair, gesturing to Tom that he should take the chair 

opposite.

'Now, I would like to make this as friendly as possible Tom – I know you are an agreeable young man – at heart at least. But there were far too many complaints about your behaviour at the Christmas celebrations last year. I thought that maybe now you were getting too old for these little pranks of yours?'

'Sir, with all due respect – I am merely trying to lighten the hearts of the crew…'

'I don't want your excuses Tom. This has to stop. Even today your name has been brought to my attention. I was just having a word with Neelix…'

'How did he…?'

'Ah. An unfortunate mistake to make, Mr Paris. Your name was simply brought up as a possible culprit in this instance but thank you for your admittance.'

Tom mentally kicked himself. That had been one of his best ideas for a little fun. He had sneaked into the kitchen, and, when Neelix's back was turned, made off with the top level of his many-tiered Christmas cake. Finding it decorated with sprigs of bright green holly, he had discarded them – into Neelix's chef's hat. The Talaxian's indignant yelps had followed him along the corridor as he made his way to the bridge that morning.

'That is, however, just the most recent in a long line of practical…jokes, I think you'd call them. Let's start right back at the beginning. There is, first of all, the matter of the present exchange last Christmas. I was greatly amused to find, upon opening my gift on Christmas morning, a small handmade doll, complete with full national Talaxian dress. I am not so sure, however, that Naomi Wildman would be so happy when she discovered that she had received a collection of research papers on the origins, politics and recent actions of the Cardassians.'

'How was I to know…'

'You weren't Tom, I know that. But that might've been a clue to you before you attempted your next little exchange, at the party that night?

Oh dear. Tom still regretted this one.

'Spiking the punch with Vulcan chilli was an… interesting… idea, but maybe you should have checked to see if any of the crew were allergic first of all?'

B'Ellana was still aloof with him because of that. She had recovered perfectly in a couple of days though…

'I still have to mention the abundance of mistletoe you arranged to be hung in the most imaginative of places – among which, if you do not recall, was on the bridge above the Captain's chair.'

Tom couldn't help smiling at the memories that brought back… but he soon straightened his face at a look from the Commander.

'There was the incident involving the holly and Tuvok's chair, the Santa suit that poor Neelix had to wear when his best jacket went missing, the comm badge you somehow managed to conceal in the Christmas pudding – though I admit the look on Tuvok's face when his serving began to talk about assimilation was quite humorous…'

Tom bit his lip to keep from laughing.

'Where was I? Oh yes – the memorable occasion when the computer began to play Klingon opera instead of festive carols and last, but by no means least…'

Oh no – he couldn't bring this one up again, could he?

'…your attempt to adorn Voyager's hull with "fairy lights" – what were you thinking? You almost got yourself killed!'

Tom looked sheepishly at the floor until Chakotay ordered him to look up.

'You do remember our little bargain at the beginning of this year don't you Tom?'

'Yes, sir I do.' The Commander, along with the Captain, had decided that if Tom was reported on more than ten occasions, he would be excluded form this year's festivities. Tom had agreed to the conditions, but it was so hard to contain himself sometimes…

'I am sorry to say Tom that, with the added addition of the little trick you played on Neelix this morning, you will still be attending the party tonight.'

Wait a minute… he would still be…?

'Sir?'

'Yes Tom. It appears you have… controlled… yourself so well this year that you did not exceed the limits set by the Captain and myself twelve moths ago. 

'Thank you sir – I am very, very grateful. I won't let you down! Please may I go now?'

'Yes, Tom. Leave. Please,' the commander sighed. He was going to regret this.

Eight Borg Assimilating

There were missiles flying everywhere – the air was a blur of streaking light. Trying to keep his head down, Harry Kim crawled slowly across the ground, towards the spot where he saw his friend Tom Paris last go down.

'Tom… where the hell are you? Tom!' Harry cried hoarsely, urgently, while trying to keep his voice low.

Suddenly an arm reached out and grabbed Harry round the neck. He was dragged backwards for a few steps then released. He sprang into a crouching position and whirled around to meet his assailant. Tom Paris crouched beside him. They were in a cramped space behind a low wall. 

'Tom! What were you doing? I thought you were…'

'Never mind Harry. We don't have time,' Tom interrupted. 'Here, this is all I've got left.' He gestured to some a small pile of weaponry by his side. 'Did you bring any?'

Harry held out a single projectile. 

'I used the rest trying to cover myself to get over here. Sorry.'

'Nah, don't worry about it. We'll be fine.'

Harry had ceased to be surprised by his best friend's optimism, and found that in this case, he was glad they had found each other. It was always better to know that you weren't on your own against the opposition.

'Harry! Get down! Here they…'

Tom's warning was cut short as he threw himself to the ground. They heard the thud of the shot as it went beyond their heads and landed a few feet distant.

Cautiously, when there were no more shots forthcoming, Tom and Harry raised their heads over their barricade. A scene of destruction met their eyes. Everything was obscured – shapes were indistinct and nothing moved. There was no sign of any of their fellow crewmembers.

There was a gathering of figures to their far left. Their dark bodies stood out – Borg. Eight Borg, responsible for the devastation that corrupted the landscape.

'Tom… there's no-one…'

'Shh Harry. Look – there's Chakotay! He's approaching them from behind that mound – they haven't seen him. Have they?'

A moment later, Chakotay leaped to his feet with a bellow and began to bombard the Borg with a volley of shots. The drones turned as one mass and faced him, his shots leaving no mark on them.

'We are Borg. Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.'

They advanced towards his small, lonely figure.

'Commander – nooooo!!!'

Tom leaped over the wall and ran towards his Commander, with Harry close behind. They slid and stumbled in their haste, and of the missiles they launched in the direction of the Borg, most went wide.

Suddenly Harry looked up as he heard Tom gasp in horror.

From behind the faltering figure of the Commander, another form had appeared.

'It's…'

'That's the…'

'…Captain!'

Captain Janeway was walking through the hail of missiles. She lifted an arm as she spotted her two young crewmembers and waved.

'Captain – look out!'

Tom's futile warning came too late and from too far. The shot hit Janeway in the middle of her chest. She staggered, and looked down at her uniform in shock.

Then she lifted her head and shouted to Tom and Harry. Her words barely reached them.

'Come on you two. Find the Commander, you're needed back on the bridge.'

Then she uttered a few more words that Tom and Harry did not catch, but knew them from where they stood.

'Computer. End simulation.'

The walls of the holodeck suddenly sprang up around them.

'Ah – that's better. Tom, Harry – please change back into your uniforms and be on the bridge as soon as possible.'

As they left the floor, she called after them, 'It looked like an impressive program though. Maybe I could join you next time – I could help you improve your aim!'

She turned back to the commander, waiting for his instructions.

'So, Chakotay. Did you enjoy yourself?'

'Very much, Captain. Thank you for asking.'

'That's good. But I'm afraid that you too are needed back on duty.'

'Right away, Captain. I'll just get changed,'

'Actually, no Commander. I think the woolly hat and snow boots are an improvement to the Starfleet uniform. I think you should keep them on…'

Seven's Alcove Smoking

Seven entered the cargo bay just as her young protégé Icheb was leaving. 

'Icheb. I trust you are away to continue your studies for your examination?'

'Yes, Seven. Commander Tuvok has set me a task that I will be assessed on. I have to complete it by 1900 hours.'

'I am sure you will.'

Seven stepped aside to let Icheb pass, but for a moment, the boy did not move.

'Is there something else, Icheb?' Seven inquired. She was headed to her alcove for regeneration, and did not see the need for unnecessary delay or trivial matters.

'Yes, there is. I have observed many festive activities among the other crew members, yet Tuvok has increased my studies to the extent that I am too busy to partake in any of the… merriment. I was wondering whether or not I would be allowed to attend the Christmas party, for example. I mean, I am sure that it would be a valuable chance to learn more of the social behaviour of the Starfleet members. It could aid me in my studies…'

Icheb's words sounded slightly hurried to Seven, as if he was unsure, or embarrassed. Seven realised that what the boy must be experiencing was a desire to mingle with and enjoy the company of the other crewmembers, yet he was hesitant. This, of course, would be his first social event since being brought on board Voyager. The experience, as Seven herself knew, was daunting, yet necessary, and, after a few such occasions, not entirely unpleasant. 

'Don't worry Icheb. I will inform Commander Tuvok that I feel the experience will be of some benefit to you, in the development of your social skills. But you must assure me that all your present assignments will be complete by then.'

'Yes, Seven. Thank you.'

With a lighter step, Icheb left the cargo bay. Curiously, as he walked down the corridor, Seven heard him whistling a phrase of a nonsensical song that was often heard coming from the kitchens at that time of the year. 

The former Borg drone proceeded towards her alcove, glad that she had not been approached by anyone to assist with festive preparations. She was content to observe the celebrations from a distance. Perhaps this year though, she should accompany Icheb as it was his first encounter of such a celebration.

'Computer. Initiate regeneration cycle.'

The doors to the cargo bay slid open as B'Ellana entered. She was looking for Seven to assist her in a technical examination of some lights that Neelix required in the mess hall to, the Talaxian claimed, give the right atmosphere of relaxation to enhance the enjoyment of the crew.

As the engineer stepped into the dimly lit bay though, she was aware of an acrid smell. Scanning for fire, she saw that smoke was drifting from one of the regeneration alcoves, billowing around the figure that stood straight and tall within it.

'Computer – end regeneration cycle!' B'Ellana cried as she rushed forward to the alcove. She covered her mouth and tried to shield her eyes from the harsh fumes. She felt Seven slump to one side as her legs gave way, and dragged her from the alcove and out on to the floor.

'Seven? Are you alright? Can you hear me?'

The former Borg began to cough as B'Ellana called her name. She rolled over and began to raise herself into a kneeling position. B'Ellana caught her by the shoulders and helped her up.

'Come on, let's get you to sickbay.'

Seven lay on her back on the doctor's examination table, the EMH leaning over her with a scanner.

'I assure you Doctor, I am functioning almost to full ability.'

'Now, now Seven. There is no quick cure for smoke inhalation. I want to be sure you are going to suffer no ill effects as a result of the fault in your alcove.'

Seven groaned in frustration and lay back, glowering at the EMH. She soon looked up in expectancy though when she heard someone lese enter sickbay. B'Ellana approached her bed with some data in her hand. 

'Here are the readings I took from the computer and your alcove.'

Seven took them and studied them for a moment before handing them back, looking at B'Ellana questioningly.

'I don't understand Lieutenant. I can see that there was additional data that someone had programmed into the alcoves – I presume that it was Icheb's doing. However, there is nothing extraordinary about that. What was it that caused the system overload?'

At that point, the doors opened once again, and Icheb walked in. He approached Seven and B'Ellana uncertainly.

'I think Icheb may be able to explain that to you Seven,' B'Ellana said, taking a step back to allow the two to talk.

'Icheb?' Seven questioned.

'Seven. I… I must apologise. The responsibility for the accident is mine. You see, I was having a discussion with Neelix earlier today…'

'Neelix? I thought I had warned you about his ideals already…'

'Yes Seven, you have. But Neelix was explaining to me some of the stories and traditions surrounding the Christmas festival. We talked about Christmas carols – songs that are particular to this time of year – and he let me borrow his database of his favourite carols. I just thought that maybe… it would be nice if we… learned some of them, so that we could join in. If we go to the party I mean…'

Seven said nothing for a moment, and studied Icheb's face. His eyes were downcast and he was wringing his hands in a manner contrasting with his usual confidence.

'I still do not understand how this database of… carols… could affect the regeneration alcove in such a way.'

Icheb looked up as she spoke, but turned to B'Ellana for help with this part of the explanation.

'Well, the database did not appear to be faulty in any way Seven,' B'Ellana began to explain.

'However, from what I can gather, your cortical node was… not compatible, or did not approve of, the data you were attempting to assimilate. Some of the data was no problem at all, yet some of it seemed to pose a great problem. I am still unsure as to why this should happen – but I have a feeling that Neelix himself could explain.'

The Talaxian had just entered the sickbay, much to the distaste of the EMH, dismayed that his patient should have so many visitors at once.

'What can I help you with?' Neelix enquired. 'Always glad to be of assistance but I really cannot leave my kitchen unattended for long.' He glanced nervously at the door behind him.

'Ah – Neelix. Would you please be so kind as to play your database of Christmas carols, to clear up a little mystery for us.'

'Certainly Lieutenant. I am sure you will enjoy my little collection.'

After a moment, the sound of a choir filled the sickbay. The song was in old, traditional English; the tune was melancholy, yet it brought a feeling of peace to the gathered crewmembers.

'I don't think it was this data that caused the problem,' B'Ellana informed the Talaxian who was swaying gently from side to side in time with the music. 'What is the next sample?'

'Oh – alright. Here we go – this one is called "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas." It is said to be reminiscent of the rare Christmases on Earth when the weather conditions brought snow on Christmas Day. This version is in the style of the early Clasonic period, a favourite era of mine.'

But this time, no relaxing music filled the room. Instead, an electronic noise and false, nasal voice were issued forth, to an accompaniment of clashing bells.

'Oh Neelix! Turn it off! Computer – end program!' B'Ellana shouted above the din.

Seven and Icheb had their hands clamped over their ears and their eyes widened in horror.

The Doctor rushed over, grabbed the protesting Talaxian and shoved him bodily out of the door, amid shouts of abuse and objection from Seven, Icheb and B'Ellana.

The cacophony ended suddenly, and all three breathed a sigh of relief.

'Well, Seven. I think the problem has been solved,' B'Ellana said with a sigh of relief. 'And please, Icheb, don't try and conform to the tastes of a Talaxian, ever, ever again.'

Six Hours of Singing

The mess hall was adorned with boughs of greenery, sparkling lights and coloured streamers. The lights were dimmed, but candlelight illuminated every table, each one surrounded by smiling, chatting crewmembers, eating and drinking.

The room fell quiet as the EMH stepped out on to the small stage that had been raised at the front.

'Welcome, ladies and gentlemen… of all races. I invited you here tonight to enjoy a little performance that I am taking great joy in providing for you. I shall not delay – I would like to get started as soon as I may, and I am sure that you are all waiting in anticipation.'

Laughs and cheers rose from the assembled crowd.

'Get on with it then Doc!' called out Tom Paris. He turned aside to Harry Kim and lowered his voice. 'There are still several things I would like to do before we get back to Earth – I may have to leave before he finishes.'

Harry grinned at his friend but tugged his arm to get him to turn his attention back to the Doctor.

The Doctor cleared his throat, strode to the middle of the stage, and began to sing.

His chosen recital was an ancient Christmas oratorio from the 17th century. His voice was haunting and powerful, although the words were a mystery to the rest of the crew. 

Captain Janeway sat back in her chair at the table she was sharing with Chakotay, Tuvok and, oddly, Seven. She had not thought that the astrometrics expert would particularly enjoy this busy social gathering, and may find it 'unproductive' to sit inactive for so long, yet she had showed an interest in it from the first announcement the Doctor had made.

'I enjoy the Doctor's… talent, and I believe he has a passionate voice. And as long as I will not be required to partake in idle chatter, I feel it will be an enjoyable evening,' she explained to the Captain, who was more than happy to have her company.

Relaxing into the mood of the evening, Janeway closed her eyes and found herself transported from the heat and buzz of the mess hall to a cool, bare place where the sound of singing voices echoed from stone walls.

An hour, then two, passed without the captain opening her eyes. The room had hushed as the doctor continued, more people contented to listen quietly to the hallowed words.

Janeway felt a hand grip her arm gently and sat up abruptly, wondering what could need her attention. She was enjoying a night off.

She turned to see it was Seven that had brought her back from her reverie. Her friend nodded across the table to where Tuvok was trying to catch the attention of his captain.

'Yes, Tuvok? What's wrong?' she whispered.

'Captain, I have something of great importance that you should know.'

'Now, Tuvok? Can it not wait?'

'I'm afraid not Captain. Maybe we should step outside.'

The captain sighed, excused herself and her security officer from the table, and left the hall.

Outside in the corridor, she turned to the Vulcan.

'Yes?'

'I am sorry for disturbing your enjoyment of the performance Captain, but I feel that you should know.'

'Know what Tuvok?'

'Well, I have researched some of the Doctor's performances before, and I found that this particular one is known to last over six hours.'

'Six hours? Surely not, Tuvok. I mean, you must be mistaken.'

'I'm afraid not Captain. You see, I have some interest in the Doctor's collection of music. He allows me to look through it on occasions to try and find something to aid my meditation. There are one or two suitable compositions. However, I found a history on this particular performance, and it is one of the longest known.'

'But…we can't listen to another four hours. Well, as much as I would like to, I have to think of the rest of the crew, you understand.'

'I quite understand Captain.'

'It's already 2300 hours. What can we do? Is there no way of speeding him up? We could interrupt him, and ask him to skip to the last act…'

'I'm sure the Doctor would take great offence if we interrupted him, Captain.'

'You're right. Could we override his program – maybe he could 'forget' the next hour or so?'

'I fear that would be too complicated Captain. The doctor has no memory as such – and I am loath to just delete some of his files. He would be able to trace the override. But maybe you could explain to him afterwards. He is not an unreasonable…hologram.'

The captain took one hand off her hips and swept her hair back from her face in exasperation.

'I wish I could Tuvok but remember how he reacted when Seven deactivated him to get him to stop fussing over her. He was not happy about that. What we could really use right now is a power cut…'

The captain made her way back into the mess hall and by inside the door. She was just in time to catch the finishing phrases of act five. Act five out of ten, as Tuvok informed her.

She noticed Seven looking around to try and spot her, and caught her eye. She nodded at her, trying to reassure her that everything was under control. Then just as the Doctor drew in a deep breath to continue his performance, she signalled to Tuvok, standing in the corridor.

The mess hall was plunged into darkness. The twinkling, coloured lights went out, and for a few seconds, the only light came from the sparks of flame of the candles. 

The only sound was of startled gasps and a few shattering crashes as the crew learned to let their eyes get accustomed to the dark, before the emergency lighting came online.

In the grey light, Janeway made her way to the stage, no longer occupied by the EMH, and clapped her hands to get attention.

'Please, everybody, quiet! I am sorry about this… unforeseen… power failure. Commander Tuvok is working on setting things straight again right now so if you will just be patient. Luckily, I understand that the Doctor had just concluded his performance. So, when all power is back online, I think he deserves a very big round of applause!'

The lights flickered and then brightened and the decorations were once again sparkling cheerily.

Amid a great cheer, the EMH appeared back on stage. He looked around, bewildered for a second.

The captain stepped forward and shook his hand.

'Well done Doctor! That was an excellent performance! I think you were quite overcome by the end…'

'Yes, yes… thank you Captain. I feel quite… elated… actually. Thank you very much.'

And he turned to face his audience, a smile on his face, overwhelmed by the applause,

At the back of the hall, Tuvok was cheering and clapping harder than anyone Janeway could see. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at the captain. She winked.

Five Late Nights

As the crew filed out of the mess hall Chakotay scanned the crowd for any sign of Kathryn.  He had been drawn into a conversation after the Doctor had 'completed' his performance, and they had been separated.  Seeing her standing with Seven in a corner he headed over towards them.

'Captain, care for an escort back to your quarters?'   He knew that the suggestion would set the rumour mill in action again but in all honesty he couldn't care less.

'Why thank you,'  she accepted, graciously smiling at him, and after biding farewell to the former drone they headed out into the corridor.

'You're going to give people the wrong idea,'  she scolded once they were alone.  

'I know – Did you see the look on Tom's face?'  he asked, grinning at the memory.  At this she chuckled slightly before covering her mouth to yawn.  

'I hope you're planning on going to bed, you've been working to hard and you look shattered.'

'Change the record please.' 

She really has been spending too much time with Tom Paris! he thought. 

'And in any case I have a stack of work to do if I plan on taking time off tomorrow evening and Christmas day,'  she added as they stepped out of the turbo-lift and into the corridor.  The Commander shook his head and followed her.

Kathryn knew that he was going to try and convince her that she didn't need to have all the work finished before she took time off but she had never been comfortable leaving work on her desk when she went away - even if it was only for a day or so.  As they approached her quarters she turned to face him and readied herself for the onslaught.

'Kathryn, you do realise that no-one grudges you the time off.  You don't have to feel you have to make up for it.  You work twice as hard as you would let any other member of the crew and refuse to take the credit you deserve.'

'That's not true!'  She exclaimed.  She honestly didn't think it was.  She rubbed the bridge of her nose – on top of everything else she was sure she was getting another headache.  

'B'Elanna works her socks off in engineering and Harry and Seven have been doing incredible things in astrometrics.  Tuvok's just finished completely re-writing our security protocols, Neelix and Tom have done wonders to the crew's morale - in their own indomitable fashions - and you aren't exactly immune from pulling a few late night working sessions!'  She was getting angry with him now.  Why did he have to make everything so damn complicated?  

She turned around and entered her quarters before she could say anything else that she might regret.  Walking over towards her desk, she peeled off her uniform jacket. Sitting down, she picked up the padd that lay on top of a giant stack that needed her attention.  It was going to be a long night – she'd promised that most of them would be returned by the beginning of alpha shift the next day.  After half an hour she figured that she deserved a reward for getting through five reports already.  She stood up and headed for the replicator.

'Janeway alpha,'  she said, watching as the familiar tingle that left an aluminium mug filled with her favourite sin.  She smiled at the snuffling and scratching noises that came from behind the sealed door that lead to the small ante room – tomorrow was going to be an interesting test of logistics.  Resettling herself to her work she reached for the latest engineering report.  It was with a sinking stomach that she realised that all the diagrams and appendices that were referred to were sitting in another padd on the desk in her ready room.

'Damn,'  she muttered under her breath.  Well there was nothing for it she was going to have to go back up and get it.  Taking this lot with you might not be a bad idea either,  her subconscious suggested.  She always concentrated better in her work environment and she also knew that she would probably receive a visit from her first officer if she stayed where she was.  Pulling her jacket back on she scooped up the reports and other requests that she still had to see to – it looked like it might be another all-nighter.

He woke lying on the floor in a tangled heap of sheets and blankets next to his bed.  That was the second time that night he'd found himself in a similar position.  It didn't seem to matter how hard he tried, or didn't, Chakotay still couldn't seem to get to sleep.  He had dozed off once or twice but he inevitably woke only minutes later.

'Computer, time,'  he asked groggily as he clambered back onto his mattress.

'The time is oh-three-hundred–hours and forty-two-minutes,'  came the disembodied voice of the computer.

'Argh.'  He sighed allowing himself to fall back onto his pillows.  Why did she have to do this to him?  He hadn't meant to hurt her and he certainly hadn't intended on starting an argument.  He lay staring at the ceiling for a few minutes just listening.  She wasn't sleeping; he had learned to identify the sound of her breathing through the paper-thin bulkheads. In fact, he couldn't hear anything at all.  He felt a moment of panic – What if she had fallen and hit her head or had slipped in the shower and was lying there and he was moping around in his own self-pity?  He quickly quelled his irrational fear but couldn't prevent himself from just making sure.

'Computer, locate Captain Janeway.'

'Captain Janeway is in her ready room.'  Well that just about took the biscuit.  It was at least four hours since they had parted company and she was still working.  That was the fifth night in a row, which he was aware of, that she had been up into the small hours of the morning.

'Well not anymore!' He muttered to himself as he pulled on a pair of slacks and dark green polo neck.

The corridors were practically deserted as he stalked along towards the lift.  He knew that she would be angry with him – hell, she would probably throw him in the brig, but he had no intention of letting her do this any longer.

'Bridge.'  He ordered as the doors closed and left him once more to his thoughts.  She might not care about her own health but he did and he was going to make sure that she started to pay some more attention to the doctor.  When the doors opened again they revealed a quiet bridge.  There were only four members of the crew present but he was more than aware that every eye was following him as he made his way silently towards the closed door.  He wrung the chime.  And waited.  And wrung it again still to receive no answer.  Losing his patience, he used his code to open the door and walked briskly in, not wanting to create anymore of a scene than was necessary in front of the bridge crew. 

However, when he saw her, all the anger that had been building up in him dissipated almost immediately.  A stack of padds that had obviously been knocked from the desk were scattered in front of him along with a half-drunk cup of coffee.  On the desk itself Kathryn was lying with her head on her arms, the last report she had been studying still in her hand but obviously never finished.  

He laughed; she really did look quite comical with her mass of auburn hair obscuring the rest of her face.  He quietened himself quickly not wanting to wake her but soon realised that she was out for the count and that nothing short of a red-alert was going to disturb her much needed rest.   He glanced around the room looking to see if he could find a more comfortable position to put her in.  There was always the couch, or the floor, but it didn't feel right to leave her somewhere where she would undoubtedly wake up stiff and sore.  Walking around the desk he carefully removed the PADD from her hand and gently scooped her up into his arms.  He stilled as she stirred slightly but after shifting slightly in his arms she leant her head on his shoulder and her hands on his chest and slipped easily back into her dreams.  He smiled.  He didn't know what the crew would make of this if they saw him.  

As he walked out onto the bridge he was once again met by eight inquisitive eyes.

'As you were,'  he told them, trying to suppress his grin.  She was actually going to kill him in the morning – carrying her through the ship for anyone to see. 

But for now he was just going to enjoy the feeling of having her so close, of holding her in his arms.

Four Comm Badges

Naomi Wildman wandered the corridors dejectedly. It was Christmas, everyone was meant to be happy and cheerful and friendly and not exclude her just because she was young. Only Neelix understood, and even he was too busy to talk to her for long. Seven was just as bad, claiming that the preparations would never be ready for Christmas if the crew kept getting interrupted.

The little girl made her way back to her quarters. Her mother was in her room, busy with something that did not include Naomi no doubt. She didn't even bother to shout a greeting.

Throwing herself on to a cushion, Naomi lay with her chin in her hands, kicking her feet. She wished that there were other young children onboard, that she could play with and talk to. But there weren't any. And she wasn't even allowed a pet to keep her company – at least that would relieve the boredom a bit.

Her mother's comm badge lay on the table. It crackled briefly before a voice came through.

'I think it's ready – if you would care to come up to my quarters to collect it, I would actually be glad to get it off my hands.'

It was the captain's voice.

'I hope it's suitable – you really don't know what you're taking on do you?' She chuckled and Naomi smiled to herself, wondering what the joke was. Her mother suddenly rushed through from her bedroom and picked up the badge.

'Sorry captain, I had left the room for a minute. I'll be right…'

She spotted Naomi sitting in the corner.

'Naomi – I didn't know you were back! Aren't you needed anywhere else? I really am very busy…'

Naomi stood up and ran from the room. Even her mother didn't have time for her at Christmas. She flew round the corner of the corridor then crouched and waited. She knew something was happening.

Sure enough, her mother soon left their quarters and walked along the corridor in the opposite direction, towards the captain's rooms. Naomi was undecided for a moment, but chose not to follow. She didn't want to get shouted at again. It would be better if she just stayed where she was. Crawling back into a small alcove she drew her knees up to her chest and waited.

Presently she could hear footsteps come along the corridor. They stopped near her, but whoever it was didn't look down. Naomi peered out and saw Commander Chakotay standing above her. He paid her no attention – no surprise there – but was talking to his comm badge. Before Naomi could listen though, the Commander moved even closer to her hiding place, his boots almost treading on the hem of her dress. A cleaner moved slowly past on the other side of the corridor, dislodging some dust that brought a sudden tickle to Naomi's nose. She held her breath and flapped her hands in front of her face, thinking as she did that Seven was bound to disapprove of her 'senseless antics'. The distraction proved beneficial, as Naomi felt her nose clear. She bit her lip, hoping that her presence was still unnoticed, and was glad to see the boots took a step back. She breathed again, and concentrated on what the Commander was saying.

'There's no sign of her, Captain. I think it's safe to bring it out. I'll keep a look out for her though. You will try and keep it to the cargo bay though? I wouldn't want it loose on the ship, whatever you say about it's behaviour!'

There was a muffled reply from the captain then the commander walked away.

Well, there was no way Naomi was going to stay put now. She crawled out from the alcove, dusted down her dress, and made her way to the cargo bays.

As she passed the kitchen, she heard Neelix singing to himself again. She stopped to listen, and recognised the tune. Neelix had taught her it just the day before. She was about to join in when she heard him speaking to someone else through the comm system.

'Yes, I'm here Captain. What can I do to help you?'

The captain's request was once again barely audible, and Naomi caught none of the words.

Neelix's reply was interesting however.

'Sausages? Why? Oh I see… yes, yes of course – can't have the little nuisance going hungry can we? I'll send them down, right away. In fact, I'll bring them myself.'

Naomi dashed around another corner just in time to see Neelix leave his kitchen with a small package and head down the corridor towards the cargo bays.

She followed at a safe distance and arrived in the storage area just as Neelix left again, this time empty handed.

Creeping quietly to the door, she listened for a minute. Her curiosity got the better of her young mind and she decided that it was safe to enter. She opened the doors.

Waiting for a few seconds until her eyes got used to the customary half light, she realised that she was standing in the cargo bay that also housed Seven and Icheb's alcoves and quickly looked about for either of the former drones. She saw Seven crouching in a far corner, engrossed with something. She appeared to be talking too.

'Everything's satisfactory Captain. Yes, perfectly settled now. Neelix's sausages saw to that. No, Captain. I believe there is no need to worry about Naomi coming back down here today. I was rather abrupt with her this morning. I think she may be upset by my behaviour, but I hope that the surprise will improve her mood. Yes, Captain.'

Seven moved to stand up and Naomi was back out of the door in a flash.

She skipped back up the corridors to her quarters. Christmas wasn't so bad after all.

Three Vulcan Sins

Tuvok was never usually one for playing with his food but he supposed that moving it aimlessly around the plate could only be classified as that.  Whatever it was that Neelix had concocted he simply had no desire to eat.  'Taste (and texture) is irrelevant – I require nutritional sustenance… I am spending way too much time with Seven,'  he thought as he lifted the fork towards his mouth.  He had the strangest desire to close his eyes so not to have to look at his lunch but stared resolutely ahead – it would never do for the Vulcan head of security to be seen in such a position.

'Good-afternoon Mr Tuvok.'  Came Neelix's cheery greeting.  Inwardly groaning, he redoubled his efforts to keep his _expression neutral.  

'I'm just away to deliver these to 'you-know-who'.'  The Talaxian continued indicating to a small package in his hand and winking at him.  

The little man could be almost as irritating as their resident hologram.  He declined to say anything.  The Senior Staff's recent preoccupation with Miss Wildman's Christmas present was disturbing, especially the Captain's.  Now there was another sore point.  He had submitted the most logically constructed application to accompany her to the party that he had been able to come up with but no – a certain other officer had apparently just pipped him to the post.  If he was honest he was severely pissed off by the whole situation.  That is most definitely an emotion – one demerit.  Even his inner voice was irking him today.  Make that two – that's no music for your meditation tonight.  He was tempted to damn it but had no great desire to sleep on the floor.  He would also claim extenuating circumstances – he had always disliked Christmas; it seemed to be even more futile than most of the other festivals that the humans chose to celebrate.  He looked towards the doors as they opened for the first time in quite a while and his CO entered.

Chakotay looked around the mess hall as he stepped forward allowing the doors to close behind him.   It didn't take long for him to find who he was looking for.  Tuvok was sitting, unsurprisingly, alone at a table in the corner before approaching he decided to get some lunch.

'Enjoying your lunch Commander?'  He asked taking a seat.

'It is nutritionally sufficient.'  Came the stoic reply.  He's been spending far too much time with Seven!  He thought.  That was bad – even for a Vulcan.

'I wish I could find your enthusiasm Tuvok.'  He said watching as the Head of Security made inroads into his leola root stir-fry.

'Is there something I can help you with Commander?' Tuvok asked.

'Actually,' Chakotay began slightly unsure of how he was going to put his next request.  'I was wondering if you would do me a favour?'  

The Vulcan tipped his head ever so slightly to one side.  

'Well I'm sure that you're aware that Captain Janeway had a slight disagreement this morning.'  

Slight?  He pondered his choice of words and of course Tuvok knew what had happened!  After all Kathryn had ordered him to escort him to the brig when she had arrived on the bridge at eleven o' clock.  Apparently she might have let him away with the carrying her through the corridors while she slept but turning off her alarm was just one step too far.  Luckily for him however she had him released five minutes later when she decided she still needed his help when it came to transporting a certain Christmas present.  

'Well anyway,' He began again shaking himself from his thoughts.  'I want to make sure that she leaves work alone at the end of her shift today.  I had intended on inviting her to dinner but well, like I said before I don't think she would thank me for the offer.'

'So you are requesting that I ask the Captain for her company this evening to ensure that she does not continue to work?'

'Yes that's just about it.'  They sat in silence for a moment as the Vulcan obviously contemplated his superior's suggestion.

'I agree that Captain Janeway will likely not take her leave seriously and therefore not gain the benefit that it could provide.  Therefore I will invite her to spend the evening with her 'old friend'.'  With that the Vulcan stood and threw his tray into the recycler and left the mess leaving Chakotay on his own.  Sometimes Tuvok did surprise him even if it was only when he quoted those around him.

Tuvok lay on the floor of his quarters trying to get some sleep and stared at the ceiling.  He thought back to the past evening and to what had gone wrong.  If he had been having a bad day before Commander Chakotay had spoken to him at lunch but as far has his discipline had gone, it only got worse.  On returning from lunch, which the Captain had predictably worked through, he went to her ready room and asked for her company that evening.  Although she had seemed shocked at first then tried to come up with a valid excuse for her not being free it had not taken him long talk her around.  She had agreed and invited him to join her in her quarters at 20 00 hours.  He had duly arrived after returning from duty and showering before changing into something akin to casual wear.  The Captain too had taken the time to change and wore a knee length skirt that clung in all the right places.   

There you go again!  His inner voice complained but he consciously ignored it.  

They had dinned in companionable silence then had retired to the couch where they had spent a good two hours discussing plans for the next days and Christmasses they had shared in the past.  He had tried his hardest to be neutral about the evening but even know he had to be honest and say that he had truly enjoyed himself.  Well that had been another demerit.  He hated those things so much.  Anyway, then he had suddenly found the conversation had turned to Commander Chakotay.  She had laughed at what had happened!  She had laughed at it!  She hadn't been angry with him for what he had done.  She had said that she 'understood his intentions'.  Tuvok was convinced that she would have said that if he had thrown her in the brig and taken over the ship!  Yes that little green monster had reared its head again and had left him lying on the floor trying to sleep with out even a blanket for company.  

It was definitive – He hated Christmas.

Two Leather Gloves

Kathryn Janeway sat in her quarters alone, a rug wrapped around her legs and a mug of mulled wine on the table beside her. She was enjoying the quiet and her last escape from the chaotic preparations for the Christmas party. 

And compiling her Christmas wish list. This was a task that she carried out conscientiously every year onboard Voyager, as she had when she was a child. It gave her a chance to reflect on the events of the last year, and also gave her a feeling of Christmas cheer – there was no harm in wishing, and there was no one around to give their opinion.

So, this year, she had started as usual with the one prayer that was always foremost in her mind.

'I wish that my entire crew reaches Earth safely and happily, after a journey as direct and uneventful as possible.' 

But, while they were still travelling, the least she could do was to ensure her crew had as many chances as possible to enjoy themselves, get to know one another, and relax. Hence the Christmas party.

Her next wish… well, her father had always told her that she should have at least one wish for herself, or else she would be dissatisfied for the rest of the year. But what did she need, or even want, for herself? 

Taking a sip of the spiced wine, she looked out of the window at the passing stars. She had everything she needed. Close friends, a dedicated crew, comfortable quarters, an efficient ship, plenty of coffee…

Ah – there was one thing. This idea had occurred to her a few months past, and had been duly laughed at and dismissed.

Leather gloves. That was what she wanted, if she had to choose anything. A pair of long, slim, black leather gloves. To her, they symbolised efficiency and control. And superiority. Not that she was in any way unhappy with her senior crew, but they could be so fretful and anxious – especially Chakotay. Poor Chakotay – whatever would he do if his beloved captain stepped on to the bridge on Christmas morning wearing black leather gloves? He would probably end up bowing to her or something. But the look on his face would be priceless.

But she could just imagine, the next time she felt the need to take out the Delta Flyer by herself, for research or whatever, and they all jumped up in protest at her going alone… All she would need to do would be to hold up one smooth, black hand and they would halt in their tracks, mouths agape.

Or as she stepped from a craft on to a new planet. They would all rush to help her down, and she could hold out her hand in perfect coolness ignoring their fights to be the one to hold it, to offer her support. 

The image in her head was that of royalty, and she entertained the thoughts for a few moments longer. Captain Janeway – or Queen Kathryn, of the Starship Voyager… It did have a nice tone to it. 

She laughed quietly to herself then out loud exuberantly as she heard herself giggle. 

'I never giggle – what was I thinking? Oh, I am so glad there is no-one here to see!'

Laying her mug down, she stood up and stretched languidly.

'Oh well Kathryn – Queen Kathryn, if you prefer – there's always the holodeck. Maybe in the future you should keep your imagination for that.'

She stood looking out of the window once again, smiling ruefully to herself.

A Captain and a Fir Tree

The mess hall was beginning to fill up already, and the members of the crew that were chatting and mingling were helping to put up the last decorations. There were tiny lights everywhere and the ceiling was draped with chains of coloured streamers, even now being added to as Naomi Wildman sat in the middle of the floor frantically making more and more as her contribution to the preparation. 

There were tables laid out around the walls covered with bright tablecloths and many plates, bowls, dishes, cups and trays of delicious food. There were delicacies from every region and planet, along with several massive jugs of steaming drinks, and tiers of cakes and puddings. The smells evaded the whole room, and there was a wonderful mixture of the scents of spices and sweets, and mulled wine – a Talaxian recipe, of course.

As more and more of the crew began to arrive, Neelix was rushed off his feet trying to attend to the last batch of food cooking in the kitchen and keeping hungry hands away from his stunning tables.

The merry-makers looked up as the ship's EMH walked through the doors, his medical case with him.

Harry approached him, a happy smile lighting up his round face.

'Doctor! There hasn't been a medical emergency already has there? I thought they didn't occur until after we had started eating!'

'Well, this year Harry, I am hoping that there will be no cases of indigestion at all. I have been working on this new…vaccine, of a kind, that I believe will settle the stomach before you all start to eat, hopefully ruling out any case of indigestion or overindulgence before they even start.'

'Nice thinking Doc.' Harry put an arm around his shoulders and patted him on the back.

'There's just one thing…'

'No Harry – I will not believe that there is a fault in my plans,' the Doctor exclaimed indignantly.

'Sorry Doc, but there are rather a lot of people onboard, and as you can see…' Harry turned the Doctor to face the rapidly filling room, '…it's going to be a hard job to track them all down and treat them, especially before they start eating.'

The Doctor looked around in dismay, but something had just occurred to Harry.

'Come to think of it Doc, there may be a way…'

'How, Harry?' the Doctor sighed resignedly. He was fed up – he tried to take care of the crew, yet they either put a stop to his ministrations ungratefully, or his plans foundered.

Harry pointed to the nearest table of food, where, with pride of place, a great glass bowl of punch sat. He smiled at the doctor and gently guided him towards the table.

The Doctor looked at him blankly.

'Go on then Doc, do your stuff.'

The EMH raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Sighing, the young ensign resolutely removed one of the vials that the hologram was toying with in his hand, broke the seal and tipped it into the bowl.

Looks of confusion, horror and finally comprehension flickered across the Doctor's face.

'You mean – I've to spike the punch with my vaccine?'

'Exactly, Doc – it's the easiest way to make sure everyone gets a dose.'

'Very well then – in the name of medical care…'

With a quick glance to certify that Neelix was safely occupied in his kitchen, the Doctor tipped several vials of medicine into the bowl, and gave it a surreptitious stir with the spoon.

Harry watched expectantly.

'Well –will that do it then?'

'Most definitely. It is now out of my hands.' The doctor turned and walked away, chatting amiably to the first crewmembers he came across.

Harry began to ladle the punch into the glasses and after laying them all on a tray, began to make his rounds of the room, distributing it amongst his crewmates.

Soon the mess hall was close to holding its full capacity. The members of the senior crew were the last to arrive, and now they were waiting for just two more: Commander Chakotay and the Captain.

Finally the doors opened and the two swept in, to be hailed by many cheers and greetings. Now the party could really begin. Well, almost…

'Thank you crewmembers. I am glad to see you all here, and I won't keep you waiting with long speeches.'

The cheers rose again.

'I know you are eager to enjoy all this wonderful food, and I would hate for it to spoil or go to waste, so please – dig in! The speeches can wait – the food cannot!'

She beamed at the whole crew, their mood infecting her already – she was really looking forward to tonight. First though, she needed some coffee if she was to stay alert for the whole night.

Excusing herself from Chakotay's charge, she left her commander to go and join in the revelry, and made her way to the corner where, as it always was, a fresh pot of coffee was awaiting her use. Quickly pouring herself a mug, she inhaled the refreshing aroma and turned back to the party.

After a time that nobody bothered to measure, the food was, amazingly, almost gone. The crew were standing enjoying drinks passed around by Harry and the Doctor, and the room was full of laughter and, from some groups, bursts of song. Janeway stood once again near the door, a fresh mug in her hand, trying to judge if it was the right time to start the formalities. She was about to call out for attention when Chakotay appeared at her elbow.

'Chakotay! I thought you were meant to be my partner for the evening, and I have hardly seen you! You have been enjoying yourself I trust?'

'Very much so Captain but…'

The commander paused and looked around for a second. 

'It's too noisy in here,' he said and drew the captain out into the corridor.

'Ah, much better,' Janeway laughed. 'What was it you wanted to see me about?'

'Oh – not much Captain. I just wanted to wish you a merry Christmas.'

'And you too Chakotay.' She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

'Or am I not allowed to do that without mistletoe?' she asked cheekily, ignoring the blush that had suddenly bloomed on her commander's cheeks.

The commander smiled and they walked back into the lively hall. 

As they stepped back inside, a fresh cheer went up. The entire crew was already facing the door. Janeway was slightly taken aback and looked up questioningly to Chakotay for support. He gave no explanation but grinned back at her, took her by the shoulders, and turned her to face the corner of the room.

The latest, and last, addition to the decorations was a magnificent fir tree that stood on the low table in the corner. Its boughs were covered in shiny baubles and figurines, and the lower branches were laden with small gifts. 

Janeway gasped in surprise. Beside her, Chakotay was experiencing a similar reaction, although he had known to expect it when they returned to the hall. The effect was wonderful – the tree rose above everything else in the room, and perched atop it was a many-rayed star that cast light on everyone's faces. For all the wonderful celebrations, they had never had a tree on Voyager before.

He bent to his captain's ear and whispered, 'I'm glad you like it.'

Janeway stammered a reply. 'It…it's fantastic Chakotay. Thank you…'

It had taken her breath away. Her coffee pot – her beloved coffee, that gave her a chance of relaxation and enjoyment after a long hard day running a starship, that was an enduring link to her life on Earth – it had been replaced with a…… tree?

She turned incredulously to meet the smiling faces of her crew. 

Neelix, in full Talaxian garb of green and gold, was beaming at her from the corner by his kitchen, the chef's hat finally abandoned and a well-deserved glass of wine in his hand. In front of him stood Naomi Wildman, her impish face filled with light and her cheeks flushed.

At the back of the room the Doctor stood as pompously as ever, his chin lifted high and his face, usually so stern, was broken by a smile. 

In the middle of the crowd were two proud figures – Seven and Icheb. As Janeway watched, Seven raised her hand and laid it on the young boy's shoulder. He looked up at her and smiled impulsively. She returned his grin, for a second noticing only him, and then looked back at the rest of her friends, all enjoying the same festivities.

At the Captain's side stood Chakotay and Tuvok, in the same defensive way they always did, but she noticed a difference in their stance tonight. They were not just protective- they were proud.

'I… well, I don't know what to say. Thank you - thank you to every single member of this crew!'

She faltered slightly but a great shout rose from the back of the crowd.

'Three cheers for the Captain! Hip hip…'

Tom and Harry's voices rang out above everyone else's as the room applauded.

Chakotay handed her a drink and she raised it. Everyone else followed suit.

She paused for a second.

'Well…merry Christmas everyone!'


End file.
